


i'd rather have us

by grannvale (Windmire)



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Holst Goneril, Background Hilda Valentine Goneril/Edelgard von Hresvelg, M/M, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21945571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windmire/pseuds/grannvale
Summary: "You'd be missing out on Saint Seiros Day," Holst Goneril tells him, peering up at him over his entirely unnecessary glasses."Oh, that won't be a problem at all," Lorenz says easily. "Trust me, please."Near Seiros Day, journalist and former-rich-kid-estranged-from-his-aristocratic-family Lorenz Hellman Gloucester travels to Almyra, following the rumors of an impeding announcement about a secret crown prince. He can't seem to find much of anything on the prince there, but he does seem to keep running into the infuriatingly handsome man who sat beside him on the plane.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 17
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The smart thing to do here would have probably been to have this finished by christmas rather than slamming down the first chapter hours before christmas (in my timezone), but. Oops. Mistakes may have been made.
> 
> Anyway, this was meant to be written in the spirit of a cheesy hallmark christmas film, so do feel free to take this as (not) seriously as you would one of those lmfao. Was I thinking of (the admittedly not a hallmark movie) A Christmas Prince for initial inspiration, too? _Maybe_.

"You'd be missing out on Saint Seiros Day," Holst Goneril tells him, peering up at him over his entirely unnecessary glasses. 

"Oh, that won't be a problem at all," Lorenz says easily. "Trust me, please."

It's a good opportunity. And there's really no one in particular he'd like to spend the day with, in any case.

Holst narrows his eyes at him, pushing his keyboard away from himself. "Lorenz. You know you can spend Seiros Day with me and Hilda," he says carefully, just about dripping with that terrible, terrible sympathy of his. It's downright disgusting. "You don't have to be so determined to spend it alone."

Funny. He knows for a fact that Hilda's planning for her trip to who knows where to run into and past Saint Seiros Day.

 _Like hell I'm spending Seiros Day with my big brother this year!_ she told him mere days ago. _He's been suuuch a crybaby since he broke up with you-know-who. I can't take it anymore!_

Lorenz doesn't even know who Holst was dating, really. When it comes to the Gonerils, he's learned it's best not to ask about these things.

With any luck, Holst will find someone to spend the day with and he won't be too heartbroken about Hilda abandoning him for the holiday.

Hopefully.

"That's very kind of you," Lorenz says, just as carefully. "But I really do not mind working through Saint Seiros Day. It will be... good, I suppose, to have a distraction like this. Truly."

He doesn't need a distraction, but it's the sort of line Holst falls for.

It _is_ a good opportunity for a story, after all, and that's what matters now. He can focus on the prince of Almyra and not... well, whatever all of this is.

Holst pulls off his (ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, rose gold) glasses, lays them down carefully on his desk, and runs a hand through his hair--mussing up that perfectly styled fringe in the process, of course. And oh won't he just]hate that when he realizes.

"Have you spoken to your family recently, Lorenz?" Holst asks, pushing because he just can't leave well enough alone.

"No, _Mister Goneril,_ and I do not intend to anytime soon. Now, may I have this assignment or not?" he asks, somewhat more firmly than he strictly meant to sound.

Holst sighs. "All right, Lorenz, all right, just... Can I ask you to call me or Hilda often? Just to tell us what you're doing? You know I'm just worried about you, right?"

"Yes, I'm well aware," Lorenz says stiffly. "And I appreciate it, truly." Intellectually, if not in practice. "There really is no need to worry, but if it'll keep you from turning into a mother hen on me, I'll call Hilda every evening? How's that?"

Hilda, at least, is likely to just let him off with saying hello and goodbye.

Though Goddess only knows how Holst's demands will change once he finds Hilda won't be spending Seiros Day with him either.

Lorenz holds back a shudder at the thought.

"That's fine. That's all I ask for, Lorenz," Holst says with a smile, like he's being _reasonable_ , as if he's ever been truly reasonable a day in his life. "The assignment's yours and you can even have the plane tickets for this weekend. I'll email you the rest of the details."

"Thank you, Mister Goneril," he says crisply and turns right back around.

Lorenz doesn't waste any time in exiting Holst's office then, lest Holst try to talk about his _feelings_ some more.

Appalling, really. Sometimes he really is every bit the clingy fool Hilda accuses him of being.

But perhaps that thought is unfair of him.

Holst is a good man. An efficient, competent, highly respected man. Hells, _Lorenz_ respects him and how he's made his life even by rejecting his father's help at every turn. (Which does not, absolutely does not, he tells himself firmly, have anything to do with Lorenz's own situation.)

The problem is...

Once he decides someone is family, he becomes the most unbearable mother hen on the surface of the planet. He becomes the clingiest man on Fódlan--and Almyra, and Duscur, and Morphis, Brigid, and Dagda.

Unfortunately, he's decided Lorenz is family.

It's a struggle.

It's an ongoing, exhausting struggle and the fact that Hilda understands does him no good at all when she's got avoiding the whole thing down to an art--but only when it's her alone.

Well, enough of that for now, he thinks, closing the door behind himself. And promptly runs right smack into Leonie.

"Whoa, whoa!" she says, backing away from him with her hands up. "Watch it, Lorenz!"

 _"Me?!"_ he chokes out, aghast. Really? Him? He breathes out harshly, pushing his hair back behind his ear. "I only stepped out! _You_ should be the one to watch where you're going, Leonie!"

She scoffs, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, please. Can't you see I'm in a hurry? Come on, Lorenz, have a heart!"

"Aren't you always?" Lorenz asks, perhaps a tad snippier than he should be. It's not as if _Leonie_ will be holding a grudge after this conversation is over, after all. "What could possibly have you in even more of a hurry than usual?"

Leonie doesn't look quite as annoyed anymore, but she rolls her eyes nonetheless, muttering something he doesn't care to decipher. Lysithea comes up behind her at a more sedate pace, a bag slung over her shoulder, and answers for her, "We've got a flight to catch, Lorenz. No time to waste."

"Oh?"

Leonie grins then, wide and triumphant, and places her hands on her hips. "Big story in Tellius!" she crows. "And Lysithea and Marianne are coming with me!"

He looks behind Lysithea, where he finds a silent Marianne half-hidden behind the open door to Casagranda's empty office.

"The, um... king of Goldoa is stepping down," she whispers when she realizes Lorenz has spotted her, her eyes on her feet the whole while. "Over a thousand years and now..."

Huh. That old dragon Kurthnaga? 

Big story, indeed.

Leonie nods, whatever irritation she might have been feeling toward Lorenz seemingly well and truly forgotten now, and says, "Goneril got us an interview with the dragon himself. So you get why we've gotta get going, right? No time to stand around here squabbling with you."

"I highly doubt he'll push up the announcement if you're late," he says wryly and gets to see the way Marianne tries to stifle a laugh.

"Our flight doesn't leave till this evening..." she whispers, a smile playing at the edges of her lips.

Lysithea rolls her eyes heavenward. "Yeah, yeah, I guess you've got a point. I guess we can talk to Lorenz," she says, as if she were speaking of something particularly distasteful. "Instead of waiting in the airport."

Really. He should complain. He should act hurt. Here he'd thought they'd been getting along better recently!

He does neither, of course.

Leonie snorts. "So what story did the boss give you?" she asks him, pulling back to lean against a closed door.

"The prince of Almyra."

Lysithea's eyes widen in a way he's learned to dread. "Wow. Do you even know the first thing about Almyra?"

Lorenz scoffs, affronted. "Of course I do! I always do my research before taking on any assignments, I will have you know. And I've certainly done my reading on this one."

Some hasty reading online since he first heard about this at the beginning of the week, perhaps, but every little bit counts. He's certainly not admitting to being under-prepared to Lysithea, of all people.

"So, translation: You don't know a thing." Lysithea rolls her eyes again. "You know, nobody even in Almyra knows who this secret crown prince is. At least not besides the king and queen. How in the world are you going to even write a decent story on this?" She moves closer as she speaks, until she's looking right up at him and jabbing a finger against his chest. "They shouldn't even have send you there if you don't know anything! Just write the story here!"

He sniffs. "Mister Goneril has arranged for a meeting with the king and queen. I'm sure they will be willing to talk enough for a decent enough article."

"Please. They haven't told anyone anything! What makes you think they'll tell your prissy ass anything!"

"Lysithea," Marianne hisses, mortified, while Leonie looks on with an expression far too amused for his comfort.

_"What?"_

"I'll thank you not to underestimate me," Lorenz cuts in as Marianne reddens, snapping her mouth shut. Lysithea isn't wrong, is the thing. "And, well, if nothing else, I'll be there for the ceremony, won't I?"

"Lame!" She backs off then, though she looks no less unhappy. "The worst part is Holst would probably accept that from you."

"If you are implying he shows favoritism--"

"I'm not implying! I'm saying!"

"Lysithea!"

Leonie laughs, forestalling any further argument. "We'll see, I guess. But we should probably get going now." With one last nod at Lorenz, she pushes right past him, a huffing Lysithea on her heels, and throws up a hand in a wave over her shoulder. "Thanks for the laugh and good luck with your Almyra story, Lorenz!" she calls back.

"See you next year," Lysithea says without looking at him.

Marianne hurries after Leonie and Lysithea then, pausing only to give Lorenz an awkward little smile and a quiet "Good luck on your story," before he's left alone.

Goldoa, is it?

He'd better make sure his own story is up to snuff.

-

The airport at Derdriu is, as always, absolute _torture._

On a good day, Lorenz fears he may expire before he even boards the plane, never mind getting there on time. But this close to Seiros Day, he almost starts wishing he were suffering through Holst's nagging somewhere. Anything, anything at all, to escape the crush of people--the atrociously _slow_ crush of people, at that--and the absolute tedium of standing in line again and again and _his flight getting delayed_ and.

He breathes in slowly, then out, then back in.

His only comfort is imagining how Leonie and Lysithea must have handled this torment of an airport a few days ago.

He gets a nice chuckle out of the thought, until he remembers poor quiet little Marianne would have had to deal with both the crowd and whatever Leonie and Lysithea got up to as well.

Lorenz winces.

Ah, well, it wasn't that funny anyway.

He's ready to drop by the time he finds his gate with its screens announcing the delay to the flight to Almyra City and all, only the thought of a discreet nap during the flight keeping him going.

Lorenz grimaces. Oh, there he goes again, sounding like his father.

No, he _will_ nap during his flight and he cares not a bit who sees him.

There. That's better.

He nods to himself and wades into the sea of cramped little chairs outside the gate, eyes peeled for an empty one. Though the way it looks, he's beginning to think he should have been here before the sun rose if he wanted a chance at one.

Before the sun rose and with a premonition that the gate would be changed at the last minute, at that.

Lovely. He does just adore changed and delays in already packed airports.

It's pressed right up to the glass windows at the end that he spots one, right between the wall and a man with his nose so far in a book Lorenz can't even make out his face.

Thank the goddess.

The man doesn't look up as Lorenz takes the seat beside him, nor does he look up as Lorenz sets his bag carefully by his feet, which suits him just fine. He's sorely in need of some peace and quiet.

Not that it lasts.

It's when he's pulled out his phone and he's in the middle of very deliberately leaving Holst's message about Hilda abandoning him for Seiros Day on read that he hears the man snap his book shut.

"Crazy, huh?" a voice says, sounding so very close to his ear that Lorenz jumps, fumbling his phone.

The stranger laughs softly, a sound so pleasant it's downright grating. "Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to scare you!"

"You didn't," Lorenz says archly, holding his phone close to his chest now. He knew the man was there, he knew he was moving. It's... fine. His heartbeat will go back to normal soon enough. "You were closer than I expected, that's all."

He looks up then, only to find a pair of amused green eyes staring right at him, the eyebrows above them raised and the face that goes with them... Not entirely unpleasant to look at, actually.

And that's such an understatement it's painful.

Wonderful. The worst thing he could have probably seen in his current state, exhausted and disheveled already in the early afternoon.

Surely, the goddess must be punishing him for trying to skip out on Saint Seiros Day.

The man pulls back slightly, settling back into his own seat from where he'd been leaning toward Lorenz, but remains silent.

Lorenz raises an eyebrow in return. "Well, what is it, then? What's crazy?"

Surely, surely this will distract from his own reaction. He just needs to figure out just what this stranger was trying to tell him in the first place.

"Huh?" The man's lips twitch, before he's smiling, easy as anything. "Oh! The airport. I've been here plenty of times, but I think this might be the first time I've ever seen it this bad. Nothing like a little commiserating, right?"

Lorenz sighs. "Seiros Day is coming up," he offers weakly. "Factor in all the delays caused by the snow and..." He grimaces. It doesn't snow quite as heavily in Almyra as in Leicester--closer to a winter in southern Adrestia, as far as he knows, but he's still not looking forward to that. "It's not really that much of a surprise, is it?"

"Maybe not." The man shrugs and he accompanies that smile with a wink now, an unfairly attractive wink. "I guess Seiros Day just isn't when I'd expect a lot of people from _Fódlan_ to be traveling to _Almyra._ We're not exactly as big on it there as you all are."

Yes, that is yet another reason Lorenz was so eager to take this assignment, actually. Less of the pomp and circumstance that inevitably accompanies Seiros Day in the capital of Leicester? Why, it sounds downright heavenly.

He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "I'd imagine some people prefer that. Are you returning home, then?"

"Sort of?" The man laughs again and Lorenz's heart, traitorous monster that it is, skips a beat. "My mom's from Leicester, I was just visiting my grandfather's family. Figured I'd go back home for the year before he got too wrapped up in the holiday."

"I see. In that case, I'm sorry this has to be your last impression of Leicester for now. It's usually..." He struggles to find something, anything, positive to say about traveling in and from Derdriu and gives it up as a bad job. "Well, I'm sure you've had more than enough experience with this airport by now."

"You got that right." He leans back in his seat, head against the glass and still with that damned smile on his face. "What's got you traveling at this time of year though?" he asks, hunching forward in his seat again, book in his lap and an elbow on his knee. "Are you one of those people who prefers it that way?"

And he thought he was so subtle.

Lorenz unhooks and rehooks the button on his shirt cuff, if only to have something to look at besides this stranger's curious, curious eyes on him. "Something of the sort." He's certainly not welcome for Seiros Day back with the Gloucesters anyway, even if he did feel like swallowing his pride and trying to return, and he thinks he might tear out his hair strand by strand if he has to spend another one with the Gonerils--lovely as they are, honestly. "But that's not the reason I'm traveling today. It's for work. I've got business in Almyra, you see."

"Oh?" The man leans forward again, resting his chin on his hand. There's a glimmer of interest in his eyes and Lorenz can't be sure if it's a good thing or not. "And just what could have someone from Derdriu on business in Almyra during Saint Seiros Day?"

Lorenz purses his lips. He doesn't particularly like talking about work much... and neither do some of his bosses, for that matter.

Not that Holst would hold much of anything against him, he thinks, and it's a great effort not to roll his eyes--at himself, at the idea of Holst, at Hilda's voice he can almost hear saying those exact words.

Goodness, maybe he'll return to Almyra after this assignment is done, go on a long, well-deserved break from everything Goneril.

He does, in the end, roll his eyes at himself. He'll say whatever he pleases, thank you. It's not like he's been given any confidential information, Acheron's rules be damned. "I'm a journalist," he says. "And I'm covering the crown prince story."

"Oh?" The man frowns, looking so genuinely baffled it makes Lorenz's teeth itch. "Is it really that big of a story in Fódlan?" He chuckles. "In _Leicester?_ It's just the prince of Almyra."

 _Just_ the prince of Almyra?

"Oh, yes. People are quite a bit more interested in this than you'd think. I've covered this sort of international story before..." If traveling to Valm that one time to accompany that clod Acheron counts anyway. "...And they really do attract quite a bit of interest here."

"Huh. What do you know?" he says to himself, then in a louder voice, "Well, they say the king's being pretty tight-lipped about this one, so good luck, my friend."

My friend, is it?

"Name's Claude, by the way," he goes on to say before Lorenz can answer, with another one of those winks of his that still have no right to look quite so fetching, and holds out a hand.

Lorenz bites the inside of his cheek and reaches out to shake his hand. "Charmed. Lorenz."

As he pulls his hand away, the stranger's--Claude's fingers linger on Lorenz's skin just a moment too long, hardly any more than what would be strictly appropriate, but Lorenz still finds his cheeks warming uncomfortably and it's all he can do not to snatch his hand back.

Ah, he's not cut out for dealing with handsome strangers anymore.

He's not sure he ever has been.

The goddess must have mercy on him, because he only has to deal with a touch more of Claude's friendly small talk--Will this be your first time in Almyra? Where will you be staying? Hey, you should make sure to check out this place in the city and that place if you can get away and do you want to hear about the winter market?--before boarding begins and Lorenz beats a hasty retreat.

His last image of Claude is one more glimpse of his bright grin and a quick little wave.

Infuriating.

Infuriating is what that man is, but not as infuriating as Lorenz himself for even reacting.

Work. He's going to Almyra for work, not to be charmed and flustered in the damned airport, acting like a child who's just met their first crush.

Ridiculous.

-

There's a crying baby two rows behind Lorenz.

The plane has yet to take off and there's a crying baby two rows behind Lorenz.

He grits his teeth, takes a deep breath, and very determinedly reminds himself that said baby is likely more upset than Lorenz will manage to be throughout the whole flight. He imagines Marianne reminding him of this, with her sweet, quiet voice, eyes sad at the very thought. Raphael could be standing behind Marianne looking just as sad, too.

It helps a little.

It's fine.

It _will_ be fine.

He looks to the still empty aisle seat beside him and considers the idea that his seat neighbor might simply never show up, leaving him with all the space in this row to himself.

That would certainly help as well.

It would seem, however, the goddess has no more mercy for him today, when the newest set of footsteps stops right by Lorenz's row.

No.

No, no, he was mistaken, he realizes when he lifts his head, his heart flying up to his throat. The goddess has not had even a single scrap of mercy for him all day.

Claude the handsome stranger laughs, the sound rich and warm, as he drops down into the seat beside Lorenz. "Well, fancy seeing you here," he says and. Yes, infuriatingly, his voice is _still_ really as nice to listen to as he thought. Lorenz didn't imagine that during the minutes apart. "Who'd have thought I'd be lucky enough to end up sitting next to you, Lorenz!"

Oh, goddess preserve him.

This will be a long flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading and merry christmas if you celebrate it! ♥
> 
> my outline says four chapters so let's see how quickly i can get those done lol


	2. Chapter 2

"So, the crown prince, right?" Claude asks partway into the flight, minutes after the flight attendant has handed Lorenz the most disgusting cup of tea he's seen in his life.

He will not complain.

He will _not_ complain.

It's a real shame that his only other distraction--aside from the second baby that's decided to join the first one's crying in some unholy chorus--is Claude beside him, with his innocent questions and his not-so-innocent smile.

He's spent the time before this more silent than in the airport, though he keeps smiling at Lorenz.

It really is a very nice smile... even as it's entirely too _knowing_ for Lorenz's comfort.

Though what, exactly, Claude seems to know, _he_ doesn't know. Maybe it means nothing. Maybe Claude's just got one of those smiles that always look more enigmatic than he means for them to look.

"Ah. Yes. Yes, that's right. That's what I'm meant to write about." He clears his throat, then manages not to grimace when he sips at his tea again. It's fine. It's serviceable. "Was it as much of a surprise for everyone in Almyra, that it won't be the king's nephew who'll be the heir?"

Claude hums. His elbow's on the armrest between them, just brushing against Lorenz's arm. "Sort of? You know the story, right?"

"About... the king's nephew?" At Claude's nod, he goes on. "Yes, of course, even in one of my history classes in university. After the king failed to have any children during his first marriage, his sister's son was named heir. Then he remarried and... Well, that was still the end of it, as far as anyone knew, wasn't it?"

No one ever said anything about a child then. There was no reason to believe the heir wouldn't continue to be the king's nephew.

"That's right." Claude shrugs, pausing to take a sip of his own tea. _He_ doesn't look displeased in any way and Lorenz isn't sure why it rankles. "There's always been people who figured he had a kid with the new queen and just didn't say anything to keep the peace, so that wasn't anything people weren't expecting. It's the taking his cousin's place that's a surprise."

"I see. They thought he'd continue to... keep the peace." Bypassing the little table in front of him, Lorenz sets his cup down on his lap, frowning in thought. "Do you think the prince's cousin could be a problem here?"

Claude chuckles. "Aw, Lorenz! Maybe? Maybe not? I appreciate your faith in me, but who am I to know what all royals think?"

Lorenz feels himself redden. Oh. Oh, right, of course. Claude is just some handsome stranger he's run into who happens to be Almyran, Lorenz shouldn't... He shouldn't assume...

"Ah, yes, right, my apologies. I should have known better than to... Ah, than to think..."

Claude snorts, briefly bumping his arm against Lorenz's. "Relax, I'm just messing with you." He brings his cup up to his lips again, though he keeps his eyes on Lorenz. "That really is all I can tell you though. Sorry I can't be any more help than that."

"That's quite all right," Lorenz hastens to say. "I hadn't exactly intended to question you or anything like that. I have a meeting that should get me more of the information I need once I'm in Almyra, at any rate."

"That so? What've you got? An interview with the crown prince himself?" Claude's tone is light and teasing, in that sort of way that easily draws people in.

He finds he likes it, drawn in just as easily as people must always be, just as much as he wants to get away from it.

He doesn't know what to do with this man, but spilling out less of everything he's doing and means to do would probably be a good start. It's not as if he'll be seeing him again after this anyway, but that's all the more reason not to leave him with any odd ideas about him.

Lorenz smooths his hair back from his face where it's slipping out of the hasty ponytail he threw it into earlier, if only to buy himself some time to remember how to speak. "Why, I can't reveal any of my sources, Claude," he says and even manages a smile. Joking. He has to remind himself he's aiming for joking here. "Not even for you, Claude."

Claude laughs brightly and bumps his shoulder lightly against Lorenz's. "All right, all right. I get it, it's all hush hush. Don't have to tell me twice." There's a hint of mischief to his smile when he says, "I'll just have to figure out some other way to find out, right?"

Lorenz lifts his cup to his mouth again, if only to hide the way his cheeks warm.

Oh, if Hilda could see him making a fool of himself now.

He can't tell if Claude's too polite to bring any of it up or if he's just laughing at him on the inside.

And the outside.

By the time they part ways in the airport at Almyra--Lorenz to hail a cab and Claude to the parking garage--Lorenz's surprised to find he's actually a little disappointed to have to say goodbye. The rest of their conversation on the plane was more casual, more of Claude suggesting places to visit and other such meaningless small talk.

But Lorenz found himself engrossed in it all nevertheless, no matter how much he told himself that some of Claude's questions really were just a tad too pointed, just a tad too searching.

It's fine if he's aware of it, isn't it? And perhaps he also tried to dig more than is strictly polite.

Once again, he gets a grin and a wink as a goodbye.

It's the middle of the night, and cold enough Lorenz wraps his scarf even tighter around himself, when the cab leaves him in front of his hotel, but still lively enough in the surrounding area. Much like it would be in the more tourist-oriented areas of Derdriu at this time of night, he supposes. This area is rather popular with tourists, if he recalls correctly, with its proximity to the palace...

He's too tired to give it much thought, in any case. He's tired enough he hardly even remembers checking in or lying down in his hotel bed, asleep before he can even read whatever message Hilda's sent him last.

-

He's got his first full day in Almyra to himself, the meeting Holst arranged for him set for two days after his arrival (one day before Saint Seiros Day, not that he's counting), and he decides... Well. What will it hurt to take a look at some of the places Claude suggested? It's not as if he's got anything but the tourist brochures in the hotel lobby and his own hurried research to guide him.

There are far too many of them that suggest touring the palace, which he... would rather not do yet, actually, not when he'll have plenty of time to do that soon enough.

Hm.

In the hotel lobby, seated on one of the chairs outside the coffee shop, he scrolls through the list he typed down on his phone in the airplane, casually dismissing text notifications from back home.

Lorenz will get to them, honestly. Just... not yet. Soon. Very soon. As soon as he's had enough of a break from all of his coworkers. And Hilda.

He's weighing the idea of waiting till the evening to visit that winter market Claude told him about when, meaning to check how crowded the rest of the lobby is now, he lifts his head. And freezes.

It's a matter of seconds before he's on his feet, without any conscious decision to do so, and taking off on a brisk walk across the lobby, following a very familiar ponytail.

A very familiar ponytail that he truly, dearly hopes doesn't belong to who he thinks it does, but the jeweled ribbon holding it up only makes his stomach sink down to his feet.

No.

It can't be.

_He'd thought he was free._

"Hilda?!"

That head of brightly-colored hair stops dead just steps away from the front doors, then slowly, oh so slowly, turns around. Centimeter by painful centimeter, she turns to face him and turns out to be... Oh, for the love of the goddess.

That does indeed turn out to be Hilda, pulling off a pair of oversized sunglasses to reveal a face as if she's been sucking on a lemon. "Oh. Lorenz," she says, wooden. "You're here." She narrows her eyes at him. "Why are you here?"

Lorenz sighs. Oh, he's so tired already. Hilda was one of the last people he was counting on dealing with these days.

It's not even that he dislikes her. She's probably his closest friend, if he's completely honestly with himself.

But that is precisely the problem.

"It's not as if I'm that happy to see you either, Hilda," he says, sounding so petulant to his own ears that he winces.

This is the worst.

"Wow, rude!"

"Rude? Me? You could have at least pretended to be happy to see me."

Hilda wrinkles her nose. "Why in the world would I do that?"

Lorenz breathes out a sigh. Again.

And breathes out a strangled sound when someone bumps roughly into him on their way out the door. He overbalances and pitches forward, only Hilda's hands on his arms keeping him from kissing the floor.

He winces at the feel of her short, blunt nails digging into his arms.

"Aw, Lorenz! You made me drop my sunglasses!" She pushes away from him with a huff, but makes no move to pick them up herself, crossing her arms instead. "This is how you say hi to me?!"

"Excuse me?! You didn't even want to--" He cuts himself off and breathes out. Slowly. So slowly. This is hardly the place for this, as evidenced by that near accident just now, and other people in the lobby are already giving them dirty looks. He's trying, so hard, to stop focusing so much on what people think of him, but he just... He just needs to reframe this.

They're being rude arguing like this here. Ruining everyone else's mornings. That's all it is. The polite thing would be to take this somewhere else.

"Hilda," he says weakly, but not pleading. Absolutely not. "Let us take this somewhere else, shall we? Before we have a true accident on our hands."

She rolls her eyes at him, and again when he steps away without picking up her sunglasses for her, but she does deign to pick them up off the ground herself and follow after him as slowly as she possibly can.

Goddess strike him down.

Quickly.

He picks an out of the way corner at the other end of the lobby, nothing but a couple of armchairs there, and waits for Hilda.

Hilda stomps on his foot in the process of dropping down and settling into one of the armchairs, not even making a show of it being accidental this time like she normally would.

_"Hilda!"_

"What?" She shrugs at him, completely unrepentant. "Are you just going to complain at me all day?"

"Perhaps. If you keep trying to hurt me!"

Hilda groans and runs both her hands down her face, then turns an expectant look on Lorenz. He narrows his eyes at her, wary, before he very carefully lowers himself onto the chair across from hers.

Out of range of her boots, of course.

"So. I asked you. Why are you here?" she ask, slouched in her seat so Lorenz has to look down at her.

He sniffs. "Am I not allowed to be here?"

She slouches even further. "Sure. Are you following me? Did my brother put you up to this?"

"No, Hilda. Not exactly." Lorenz closes his eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of his nose. A vacation from all things Goneril is looking more and more appealing by the day and no amount of the affection and appreciation he holds for them is about to dissuade him. "He doesn't know you're here. Remember you never told anyone where you were going, will you? And _I_ am here, because your brother sent me here on assignment. You know, for work. The crown prince story I told you about? Does that sound familiar?"

"What the fuck." Hilda shakes her head, despairing. "That was in Almyra?"

A joke. This must be some terrible, terrible joke being played on him. "Yes? Where exactly did you think it was?"

"How should I know! I didn't even pay that much attention when you told me! _Ugghhh,_ and why should I even care!"

It takes a monumental effort not to roll his eyes. And if that isn't proof that the Gonerils have been an absolutely dreadful influence on him, then he doesn't know what is. "So this sort of thing doesn't happen, Hilda," he bites out.

She scoffs.

"And because we are friends?"

She raises her eyebrows at him. "Yeah, so what?"

Right, right.

"So," he says, when she makes no move to say anything further. "Is this where you traveled to avoid your brother, then? Because I'll note you never did give any details about that. It was impossible for me to purposely avoid you."

"Big mistake," she mutters, but her shoulders lose some of the tension in them as she sighs and goes on, "Yeah, you got me. I figured he wasn't going to be going near Almyra anytime soon, not with how much he loves Seiros Day. Figures he sent you here anyway though." A pause where she narrows her eyes at him searchingly. "I'm here visiting a friend who lives here, I guess. Wasn't counting on another friend being here," she says, almost grudgingly.

"I see," he says. "This needn't be a problem, Hilda. I give you my word I won't say anything about this to your brother." He purses his lips. "He does keep complaining to me about you abandoning him for the holiday though. I think he's lonely."

Hilda groans so theatrically he's impressed despite himself. "I just need a break, okay! I know my brother isn't _that_ bad. I know he's not going to be _this_ gloomy and clingy forever."

"I know. I do know, Hilda. And that's why I won't say anything, just..." He runs a hand through his hair. "Just please talk to him soon, before he decides it's _me_ he should be pestering all the time."

"You'll hurt his feelings if you say that to him."

"You already hurt his feelings!" He pauses. Clears his throat. "That is to say, I will not say that to him. Look," he says, thinking quickly. They're quickly getting nowhere here. "Is this the hotel you're staying in? Because if you're off to meet your friend, we can just meet up here again in the evening. I'm sure you have plans." And if she's distracted enough, she can hopefully come back having remembered how little effort she prefers to put into everything, including being so eager to try to fight him.

Hopefully.

"Yeah, I'm staying here. It's close to where my friend lives." Her eyes widen suddenly. "Holy shit, and I'm supposed to meet up with him in front of the hotel. Lorenz, you're gonna make me late!"

"Me?!" Really. Really, him! As if any of this were his fault!

"Yes, you!" She rises to her feet, putting her sunglasses back on in the process. Having gained the height advantage for the moment, she stares down at Lorenz. "Where are you going?"

"Excuse me?"

"Where were you going before you showed up to ruin my day?" she tries again, though her tone's light enough it feels more like she means the exact opposite.

Horrifying, it's close to the same tone she uses with Marianne, and he gets the feeling Marianne could murder a man in cold blood in front of Hilda--not that Marianne ever would, of course--and Hilda would say it was justified.

He's not sure he likes the comparison, whatever it may mean.

"Nowhere in particular, I suppose," he says slowly, once again wary of what he can make out of her expression behind those sunglasses. "I've the day to myself, it's not until tomorrow that I have somewhere I need to be."

"All right, gotcha." She nods to herself, then just about throws herself onto his seat, her bony elbows digging into his side.

"Hilda!" he gasps out, batting one of her hands away where it's tugging on the ends of his hair.

She ignores him. "Get up and stop wasting time here, will you? You're coming with me." At his baffled look, she rolls her eyes. "Come on," she says, tugging on his arm. "I'll stick with you till I meet up with my friend or till you find something to do today or whatever, all right? Or do you want to sit around here on your own all day?"

He knows, in Hilda speak, that's an apology.

"How kind of you," he chokes out, utterly undignified.

"You bet, so you better be grateful I'm doing this much! _Come on!_ You know I'm way too delicate to be hauling you around like this!"

Naturally, he makes a good show of it. He scoffs and rolls his eyes as much as Hilda does, but he still goes easily when she drags him out of his seat and pretends not to notice when she's more leaning on him than carrying him along.

It's fine, really. He understands.

"Very well, I'm right here. No need to rush, Hilda, I'm sure your friend would wait for you." He frowns. "Though if you're already late, I fail to see why you're keeping me company until your friend finds you."

"Uh huh," she says, once again ignoring him as they step out into the cold air outside. "Just hold on and..." She gasps, quickening her steps and sinking her nails into Lorenz's arm, once again tugging him along with her. "Claude!" she calls out.

Were she not dragging him along, Lorenz is certain he would be left frozen, rooted to the spot.

_How?_

Just what are the odds?

"Hilda!" That is most definitely _Claude from the airport and the airplane's_ voice calling her name and the man crossing the street to meet them is most definitely that very same Claude, a green scarf wound around this throat this. "Sorry I'm... late..." Claude falters when he reaches them, the very moment, he's sure, that he spots Lorenz beside Hilda. It lasts for only a moment though, before he he's grinning and, "Lorenz!" he laughs, so bright as to be nearly blinding, and... and...

All right. This is happening.

"Wait," Hilda murmurs, just low enough that Claude can't hear. "How the hell do you two know each other?"

"How indeed," Lorenz says stiffly. He can't answer her, not when Claude is approaching and he's not even finished processing the fact that it's _him._ It's _Claude_ who's Hilda's friend.

"Lorenz..."

"Claude," he says on the edge of a sigh. "How very... surprising to see you again."

"I could say the same to you! What are you..." All at once, he seems to remember Hilda, and turns in place to face her. "Wait. You're telling me you two know each other?"

"Yeah," Hilda says flatly. "What are the odds. And he didn't even tell me he was going to meet up with a friend today, too."

"I had no way of knowing he'd be here!" Lorenz protests.

"Hm. I believe you," Hilday says, not convincingly.

She finally, finally lets go of Lorenz's arm, but before she can speak, Claude goes on. "This is great though! Lorenz and I met in the airport in Derdriu, you know, and I was kind of regretting not asking you for a phone number or anything!" He says the last part directly at Lorenz, turning away from Hilda again.

"Claude..." Despite himself, Lorenz feels himself redden. Still, he does this. His phone number? Really? "I am glad to see you again but, please, do not tease me like this. It's not very polite."

He winks. "Who says I'm teasing?"

Hilda snorts. "I can't believe you two. The airport? Did you sit together, too?"

"Yeah! He was great company, you know?" And there's been an edge of teasing to Claude's voice every time Lorenz has spoken to him so far, enough to make Lorenz wary. But now... the tone of his voice now... It's so much more blatant--downright flirtatious, he'd say, if he didn't know better--that Lorenz has to look away, toward Hilda again, lest he embarrass himself.

Hilda takes that answer in, then shrugs. "Yeah, he's not so bad, I guess." She cuts her eyes to Lorenz, taking a sideways step away from him and towards Claude. "Say, did he tell you why he's in Almyra? Or is that not something you guys would talk about?"

"Oh, yeah! He told me!" He turns that smile on Lorenz again. "You're a journalist, right?"

"Yeah, and he's here to write a story on the new crown prince," she tells him before Lorenz can answer. "Have you heard about that, Claude? Anything at all? 'Cause it sounds real boring."

Claude breathes out a soft laugh. "Oh yeah, real boring," he agrees, though he doesn't sound anything but interested as he says it. "But he seems pretty great, especially if he's your friend, Hilda. I bet if anyone could make that story interesting, it's you, huh?"

Really. Something like this would be big news in Leicester. He can understand why Hilda's so dismissive of it, dismissive as she is of everything, even what she should be showing some measure of respect to, but Claude?

Maybe Lorenz really hasn't managed to get a grasp on the political situation in Almyra, if it's so mundane to someone who lives here.

"I see. Well, as always, I shall endeavor to make the story I write as interesting as I can."

"That's the spirit!" Claude thumps a hand against his shoulder and it's all Lorenz can do not to stumble right into Hilda's laughing face again.

He has no idea how the two of them are friends. Maybe they're lying to him and this is the first time they've met, bonding over tormenting Lorenz.

Lorenz holds back yet another sigh. Now, that's dramatic, even for him.

"In any case," he remembers to say. "If you're off somewhere now, I'll leave you to it. I'd hate to intrude."

"What?" Claude shakes his head. "No! We're both happy to see you. Right, Hilda?"

Hilda shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so." That's downright kind, from her.

"Nevertheless," he tries again. "The two of you do have plans." And Lorenz suddenly has even more research to do. "There's no need for me to interrupt you. And as I said before, I can wait to speak to you later, Hilda. "

"Well, you heard him, Claude! I've got something super important to talk to you anyway, so if he says he can wait, he can wait."

"I guess so, but... Hey, Lorenz." Lorenz lifts his head. "What time are you going to be busy tomorrow with all your crown prince stuff?"

"Oh, the afternoon."

"Hm." Claude looks between Lorenz and Hilda, and back again. "You mind if I come around here in the morning, then? Breakfast? Hilda won't exactly need me here to entertain her if she's still out cold."

Lorenz blinks in surprise. Wait. What?

Standing on her tiptoes, Hilda slams both her hands down on Claude's shoulders. "Hey! I can't believe you're trying to ditch me already! Why'd I even come here?"

Claude staggers, eyes bright and laughing all the while. "Because you love me and want to support me, but you wanted to avoid your brother even more than you love me?"

"You got that right, mister!" She groans and lets go of Claude, rocking back on her heels. "It's a good thing I was ditching you tomorrow anyway. I'm meeting up with Edelgard."

"Wait." Claude steps lightly away from Hilda, positioning himself between her and Lorenz. "Edelgard's here already and she didn't tell me?" He presses a hand against his chest. "I'm hurt!"

"Nope, sucks to be you." She snorts. "Nah, she's getting in tomorrow."

"Edelgard..." Lorenz cuts in. "That's not exactly a common name, is it? Is she Adrestian?"

"Oh, yeah. Edelgard von Hresvelg."

Lorenz chokes on air.

"Wait..." He takes in a wheezing breath. "Edelgard... Edelgard von Hresvelg, the current prime minister of Adrestia? The youngest prime minister in modern Adrestian history? Does... Does Holst know about this?"

Just what sort of company has Hilda been keeping and why hasn't she breathed a word of it to him before this?

"Shh!" Hilda slaps at his arm. "Don't tell him shit, he'd be pestering me to get him interviews and then Edelgard would never talk to me again!"

"But the Prime Minister of Adrestia!"

"And you know she'd agree to the interviews," Claude chimes in.

"Shut up, Claude, I don't care! I just mean my brother'd be taking up all her time with how much he talks. You _know_ how that would end up!"

Claude shrugs. "I still haven't met your brother."

"That much is evident."

"It's so cute that you're so eager to talk to Edelgard though. Why, it feels like just yesterday when you two were still--"

"Can you shut it, Claude!"

"Never. Anyway! Lorenz. Breakfast?"

"Ah... Oh, yes, I would love to. Thank you, Claude."

"Come on, Claude! We've got things to do!"

"It's a date, then!" Claude says.

Ah. Right.

Just what has Lorenz gotten himself into now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a couple days later than I hoped this would be up, oops. But happy (belated) new year and thanks for reading! ♥


	3. Chapter 3

A date. Please, as if it could ever be anything of the sort.

Claude was just winding him up.

Then Hilda was as well, when she came back to the hotel and grilled him for all he was worth about how he met Claude.

It's ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. There's simply no other way to describe it.

It just figures Hilda would have a friend somewhere who's willing to help her with this sort of nonsense.

Hm.

Or would it be Hilda who's helping Claude?

It doesn't matter. The point, really, is that he's on to the both of them, regardless of what kind of _breakfast date_ Claude might have planned for himself and a near stranger.

With any luck, it'll be relatively painless.

He's not surprised when, by the time Lorenz is dressed and taking the elevator down, he has no messages from Hilda, even despite all the significant looks and snide comments she graced him with after she arrived back at the hotel last night.

That would require a modicum more effort on her part, after all.

All the better for him, in any case, if he doesn't have to worry about Hilda hovering over this... whatever this is.

Again, it doesn't matter.

Claude is punctual. Of course he's punctual, Lorenz thinks as he spots him _inside_ the lobby the very moment he steps off the elevator.

He is, in fact, already _waiting_ by the elevators, leaning against one of the ornate columns, his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the middle distance. People watching, Lorenz supposes. It sounds like the sort of thing Claude would do.

Despite himself, Lorenz feels himself redden. A date. He can't believe he keeps thinking about that, like some... some child on their first date! Pathetic.

Claude spots him, a sunny grin on his face. "Lorenz!"

Oh, here it comes.

Lorenz steels himself. "Ah... Hello, Claude. It's a pleasure to see you again."

Claude bumps his shoulder against Lorenz's the very moment he's closed the distance between them, heedless of personal space. "Same to you. Though I gotta say, I'm a little surprised you showed up at all."

"Really? I'm not one to go back on my word. And, certainly, I was shocked that you invited in the first place me when you hardly know me, but you're Hilda's friend. It's not as if I had any real reason to doubt you." He grimaces. "Though perhaps you had reason to doubt me for that."

"Don't let Hilda hear you say that!" Claude laughs and, with a hand on Lorenz's back, nudges him toward the lobby, closer to the exit. "Come on, you seriously don't think I invited you, the guy I scared the hell out of at the airport, for your sparkling personality? I should be hurt. You should be hurt!"

Certainly not. "It's not the worst first impression I've ever made, but it was hardly a good one either."

It was absolutely awful, actually.

"Please." Claude turns out to be far too polite to roll his eyes, though he still shoots Lorenz a grin that is entirely too teasing as he steps out the door before him.

Lorenz doesn't dignify it with an answer, beyond a nod when Claude nudges him toward the crosswalk.

Please.

"So," Claude says after they've crossed the street, as he seamlessly integrates the both of them into the crush of tourists weaving here and there. Goodness, but the capital of Almyra is just swarming with them. This close to the city center, it's overwhelming even in comparison to Derdriu. "How do you and Hilda know each other anyway? She wouldn't tell me."

"Oh?" He's surprised she didn't tell him just to annoy Lorenz, honestly. "We met each other in university. We both attended Garreg Mach, you see, and in recent years... In... recent years, I..." Lorenz trails off, his heart sinking right down to his feet, at the look on Claude's face--at the way his eyes widen and one of his eyebrows just about disappears under the artfully mussed curls falling over his face. "Ah... Is everything all right?"

Did he say something wrong already?

"Uh... Yeah, yeah." Claude seems to find his smile again and shakes his head. "It's just kind of funny, because... I'm sorry, did you say Garreg Mach? Seriously? _You_ went to Garreg Mach?"

He nearly runs into a woman coming in from the opposite direction, focused as he is on the disbelieving tone of Claude's words, the way he keeps _looking_ at him, even while he manages to avoid running into anyone. Because he's just that good, he supposes.

"Yes...? Is there a problem with that?" he asks carefully. Does Garreg Mach have some sort of reputation here in Almyra that he isn't aware of?

"No. No! It's just..." He almost misses what Claude says next, distracted as he is by the way he grabs Lorenz's arm and pulls him aside, under a shop awning and away from the crowd. " _I_ went to Garreg Mach, Lorenz."

What.

"What?"

"Yeah! Wow, this is just... Listen, it's where I met Hilda. And Edelgard!"

Oh.

"I... wasn't aware Hilda had known Edelgard von Hresvelg that long," he says inanely.

Ah, yes. That is absolutely the turn this conversation needs to take.

Claude just laughs again. "I'll bet you weren't. Remind me to tell you about that later, won't you? They hated each other so much at first, it was unreal."

Lorenz frowns, considering. It is, to be frank, unsurprising that Hilda would not get along with someone as hardworking as von Hresvelg is said to be, but the way she was speaking yesterday, he wasn't expecting to hear that much.

She sounded attached.

"We had a few classes together," he goes on to say, while Lorenz processes that. "And Hilda barely ever introduced me to any of her friends. But isn't it kind of funny to think we were that close to meeting all along?"

"I'll say," he blurts out, voice grave. Oh, he has to snap out of this. He's sounding more and more foolish by the millisecond. "That is... Yes, you're right. It _is_ strange to think we've been so close to meeting all this time. I could've easily met you if I'd taken more classes with Hilda."

Or been less of an idiot, really, but university was a difficult time for Lorenz.

Although perhaps calling the first steps away from his father _difficult_ is one of the biggest understatements of his life.

Claude doesn't seem to notice how he fumbles his words, because rather than answering, he only pulls Lorenz inside a door to a small building tucked away between two bigger ones and, cheerful as ever, has a host direct them to a table.

"Wait. We're here? I hadn't realized we were so close already," Lorenz says, making no move to pull away. 

"That distracted by my charm?"

Lorenz splutters.

Claude smiles at him, the blasted unrepentant man.

"Man, but it's a real shame we never met in Garreg Mach," Claude says, chin resting on his hand, the very moment they're alone again, seated at an out of the way table and orders placed. "Hey, we could've been friends, right?"

It takes a great deal of effort for Lorenz not to cringe away and, as it is, he still finds himself looking down at his hands on the table, at the way his knuckles blanch as he clenches them.

Goddess preserve him.

"Oh... Oh no. I was really quite dreadful then," he says and it feels like lying, with how much of an understatement that must be. Shameful might be a much better way to describe it the him of the past. "I prefer that people meet me as I am now." He purses his lips. "I prefer that you meet me as I am now, Claude. Not as the man I was then."

Claude breathes out a laugh. It doesn't feel mocking, but Lorenz can't say he wouldn't deserve it. "You mind if I ask Hilda about that, then?"

"I have no doubt she'll tell you at some point, even if you don't ask." He bites his tongue on anything worse, unable to meet Claude's eyes.

Better. He's supposed to be better now than he was before.

He clenches his hands so tight his nails dig into his palms.

There's no need to say anything unpleasant about anyone.

"But," he says, forcing a smile. Claude doesn't call him out on how very unconvincing it must be. "That means I should ask you more about the Hilda you knew in university, doesn't it? I'm getting the impression there's a great deal I don't know about those days. What was it you were going to tell me about her and von Hresvelg?"

"Oh," Claude breathes out, his lips curving up in a smile that's smaller than the ones Claude's seen from him so far. "Hilda and Edelgard definitely didn't get along at first, is what I was trying to say. Our first class together, the three of us had to work together for the final and I swear, it was just Edelgard trying to track her down all over campus for those two months." He laughs softly. "And Hilda complaining at me about how Edelgard was so intense and so annoying and how she was _soooo_ going to drop out and leave the two of us to suffer together."

Lorenz raises an eyebrow. That does indeed sound like the Hilda he knew then, like the Hilda he knows now, even, but... "I'm surprised they get along so well now." To the point Hilda was actively trying to keep von Hresvelg's attention on herself...

Interesting.

Claude shrugs, that smile on his face turning fond now. "Yeah. Yeah, they got over it eventually. You'd be surprised at how much. Trust me, it definitely surprised the rest of us who knew them then."

"Hm, I see," he says. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to share how this happened?"

"Wish I could! Unfortunately, I don't know all the details. They just kind of started acting different a little before we all graduated, you know? But don't you worry, Lorenz," Claude says, with a mock salute. "Claude von Riegan's on the case! And he intends to get it out of the two of them someday, somehow."

And he sounds so very confident that Lorenz finds he has no doubt he'll do just that.

He can't quite help the answering smile that tugs at his own lips. Though it turns into a confused frown when he goes over what Claude just said.

"...Wait," he says. "I don't mean to pry, Claude, but... von Riegan, you said? You're Claude von Riegan? You wouldn't happen to be..." _Godfrey von Riegan's son, would you?_ he almost asks. It seems logical, if he was presumably visiting his grandfather in Derdriu...

But, wait. That's not quite right, is it? He think he vaguely remembers Claude saying his _mother_ was from Leicester? Did he have any siblings...

"...You wouldn't happen to be related to Godfrey von Riegan, would you?" he asks instead, somewhat weakly.

"Huh?" Claude looks up at Lorenz curiously, blinking slowly. "What was that?"

"I... Well, you said your mother's family is from the Alliance, yes? And von Riegan isn't exactly a common name in Derdriu..."

"Oh!" Claude brightens, that smile returning. "Yeah, actually. He's my uncle."

"Ah." Floundering, he searches his memory for a name.

Claude must take pity on him though, because casual as anything, he says, "It's Tiana who's my mom."

Ah! That was it!

"Y-yes, of course. Tiana von Riegan's son, then." He's never met her, really, but thinking back, he realizes he heard quite enough about her from his parents.

Up to a certain point, at any rate. He vaguely... vaguely remembers something about her leaving the Alliance without telling any of her old acquaintances where she was going to. Yes, that sounds about right.

To think she was just on the other side of the mountain range all along.

"That's right. You know them or something?" Claude asks. He's still smiling, but there's still also just the slightest hint of wary confusion in him.

Ah... He probably thinks Lorenz has said something strange, doesn't he? It would be strange to just bring up someone's family in such specific and intimate terms, wouldn't it? He thinks?

It's only the sort he grew up with that place such emphasis on family lines, isn't it? He can't remember sometimes.

Lorenz manfully resists the urge to bite his lip. Then resists the urge to do it anyway just because it would be the improper thing to do.

He folds his hands on the table instead.

"I apologize, it can't have been very proper of me to bring it up like that. I only ask because..." Lorenz hesitates, buying some time to put his thoughts in order by reaching up and pushing his hair out of where it's begun to fall into his eyes. "My father went to school with your mother and uncle in Derdriu, you see. I remembered hearing the name von Riegan before, that was all. I've not been stalking your family or anything of the sort, I assure you."

"Ahhhh, gotcha," Claude says, expression finally clearing all the way. "Don't worry, I didn't think you were a stalker." He does not, however, shed light on what he thought and instead goes on to say, "So, I take it that if I ask your dad's name it won't be weird now? Maybe they've mentioned him, too."

Lorenz doesn't quite shrug so much as lift a shoulder in a jerky motion.

_Didn't think this one through, did you, Gloucester?_

"My surname is Gloucester."

Claude's lips part in a perfect little o. "Oh, jeez. Gloucester." He lowers his head, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. "Lorenz, aw crap. I'm sorry," he says, not sounding very sorry at all. "My mom hates him."

Lorenz winces. Is he surprised? Is he really the slightest bit surprised? "Well, I cannot blame her. He's not the easiest man to get along with and I... don't exactly keep in contact with him anymore either, in any case."

"Oh. I'm sorry." And he says it so sincerely, so earnestly, this time that the only responding emotion Lorenz can seem to muster up is guilt.

"Please don't be." He presses his knuckles to his lips. Is there any way to phrase this that won't make him sound like the awful son he is? "I'm better off not keeping in contact with him, believe me."

Everyone is.

"Well," Claude says and the look on his face is just as disgustingly earnest as his voice. He almost misses the wariness. "Sometimes family just sucks, huh? I've got a few of those relatives myself." He shrugs. "I get it."

Lorenz is saved from having to answer by the waiter stopping by with their orders, effectively distracting them for long enough for the matter of family to be forgotten.

At least, he hopes it's been forgotten and isn't instead lying in wait for him.

"So what's your meeting about anyway?" Claude asks, eyes on his plate. He still doesn't look up as he asks, casual, "Let me guess... Meeting with the _royal family_ themselves?"

"Oh, something like that. It's in the palace," Lorenz answers, aiming for cool and collected. "My, ah, boss arranged things so I could get information straight from the source, so to speak."

Claude looks up, his eyes widening in a way that doesn't look at all sincere. "Wow, must be important if he can get you an audience in the palace. On such short notice!"

"He's... quite the respected journalist, yes." Lorenz picks up his teacup, if only to have something to do with his hands that doesn't involve stuffing his mouth full of food while he's trying to speak. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Aw, Lorenz, perish the thought!" Claude leans forward on his elbows and points at Lorenz with his fork in a display that would have had Lorenz's mother fleeing the room. "Just wondering what kind of Fódlan who's never even been to Almyra before gets his boss to arrange him a meeting in the palace, of all places, you know?"

Lorenz nods. "I confess I was surprised as well." Was he? He recalls being pleased more than anything.

Hm.

"What's your boss' name, then?" Claude asks. He looks at Lorenz expectantly across the table, a hand on his cheek. "If you don't mind me asking you, that is."

Lorenz tries to smile. "I do not mind. I'm sure if you looked up my workplace, you'd find his name." Not that he's shared the name of his workplace, but he doubts it'd be difficult to find. "Holst Goneril. Hilda's... Ah." Does Claude know this part? "Hilda's brother."

"Ohhhh. Oh, wow, gotcha. _That_ Holst. Wow, Lorenz." Claude lets out a low whistle. "The coincidences just never stop with you, do they?"

He raises one hand defensively, setting his teacup down with the other. "I assure you none of this was on purpose!"

"I believe you, I believe you! It's just... It's a little funny, you gotta admit."

"Yes, Claude," he says on a sigh, charmed despite himself. Funny, in a manner of speaking, he supposes. But it's hard not to be drawn in when he's not reacting the way Lorenz feared. "Yes, it is. A happy coincidence."

"I could use a few more of those in my life," he says, aiming a smile at Lorenz that has him immediately looking away.

All of his smiles are nice, it's downright unjust.

"Then I'm glad our meeting could be that," he murmurs.

Is he flirting with him? Is that what he's doing?

And is Lorenz flirting back?

He doesn't know.

Has he ever even known how to flirt? Or how to identify flirting, for that matter?

No. No, he thinks he might never have.

This is a disaster.

Claude, thankfully, does not seem to notice Lorenz's struggle, because he moves right on to speak of other things--safe enough things that Lorenz finally picks up his fork without fearing he'll look too foolish.

He lets himself breathe when the conversation stays lighter, then promptly loses his breath all over again when Claude proves himself to be just as charming as he claims he is.

Terrible.

Dreadful.

And, worst of all. He _likes_ it.

It's disappointing, even, when they finish up and walk back out to the chilly morning air.

"Well, I must be off," he tells Claude, backing away from him. "I want to... thank you for breakfast, Claude. I..."

"Yeah, yeah." Claude laughs. "It was nice hanging out with you, too, Lorenz. Let's do it again sometime."

"Of course." He backs away further, not quite taking his eyes off Claude yet, and even manages what he thinks might be a perfectly acceptable smile. Or one that doesn't make him look too much like a fool, at any rate. "I'll be seeing you."

"Yeah, you too."

Lorenz adjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder and turns in place, intent on heading straight toward the end of the street and... Ah... Which street will take him to the palace again... He's sure he's got the directions on his phone somewhere...

"Good luck with your meeting, Lorenz!" Claude calls after him. "Knock 'em dead, darling!"

Lorenz flushes, freezing in place, and more so when he notices the smirks aimed at him by a passerby or two unlucky enough to be close enough to hear. "Th-thank you!" he calls back, though he doesn't dare look over his shoulder at Claude.

_Darling._

Oh, he absolutely must be conspiring with Hilda, for... for inscrutable reasons. Terrible, awful, hideous reasons. He never truly knows what's going on in Hilda's head, after all!

Worst of all, it's working.

He doesn't even know what _it_ is. He just knows _it's working._

Dreadful.

It is, once again, just dreadful.

-

The palace staff is polite and efficient. One person takes his name and, before he knows it, he's being ushered inside and away from the areas set aside for tours, past an unobtrusive side door. Then he's directed toward a small sitting room where a tall bearded man awaits him, all in the space of a few minutes.

The man stands when Lorenz enters. "There you are! Name's Nader," he says, reaching out to shake Lorenz's hand. He doesn't volunteer a surname.

"Lorenz Hellman Gloucester," Lorenz blurts out and he could just _kick_ himself.

He settles for freezing with his hand in Nader's, because that truly is so much better.

Nader smiles wryly. "Yeah, I know that." He looks pointedly toward the door Lorenz just walked through. "They let me know who I'd be meeting with beforehand."

"Right! Of course, of course. I didn't mean to imply..." He clears his throat. This won't do at all. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Yeah, you too. Stop looking so scared and c'mere and sit with me," Nader says, entirely too cheerful as he gestures to the seat across from the one he drops back down onto. He waits until Lorenz has sat down, his bag on his lap, before cutting straight to the chase. "The crown prince then, huh?"

Nader's a jovial enough man, with his wide grin and loud voice. Approachable, even.

Such a shame Lorenz keeps acting like an idiot.

"Correct. My boss wanted me to get as close to the source as possible for this story. With how long the existence of this prince has been kept a secret, well, we felt it best to be careful with what we reported."

"Hmm, gotcha. So, Holst's your boss, right?"

"Yes."

Nader smiles. "Great. Perfect. All right then, lay it on me. I agreed to this meeting as a personal favor to Holst, so I'm raring to know just what kind of kid he's sent to me."

"Ah, I suppose... " He pauses. "Excuse me, did you say you're doing this as a personal favor to Mister Goneril?"

Nader shrugs. "Yeah, Holst and I go way back. Long story." He chuckles. "Don't listen to anything he says about me, all right? We're good friends."

Lorenz carefully does not say that Holst never even mentioned who he'd be meeting with, much less Nader, specifically. "Of course... So that means that his setting up a meeting with you was..."

"Setting up a meeting with the royal family, yes. I figured it wouldn't hurt to say a few nice things about them, would it?"

Well, he'll take it.

As long as he gets what he needs out of this.

"In that case, I would be delighted to hear you..." He swallows. What was it? "Say a few nice things about the royal family?"

Nader laughs and leans forward, setting his hands on his knees. "Oh, I like you, kid. Don't look so worried, I've got plenty to tell you. See, I'm an aide for the royal family." He stretches back comfortably in his seat. "And I was one of the prince's tutors while he was growing up. So you can just call me their representative today."

"I... thank you. Truly." He takes a deep breath.

Here he goes.

-

He was, admittedly, hoping for something he could actually use for his story, perhaps even something about why the king kept his son a secret for so long.

But Nader's stories of the prince as a young boy, while charming, were suspiciously careful in skirting around just _why_ the prince learned archery at a royal property by the beach rather than in the capital. He spoke of the prince spending an entire autumn and winter up in the mountains with just Nader and other staff without ever mentioning _why_ either--or even whether the king and queen were at the capital or otherwise.

Lorenz can't even think of how Nader always avoided so much as saying the blasted man's _name,_ of all things. He'll grind his teeth down to nothing if he does.

A nasty habit, really.

It's not as if he can't fit it against what he knows about the king's nephew, but it's just...

Well, no. They weren't extreme measures, no, he decides, when he remembers how people like his father would have dealt with an inheritance situation like this one. But it is certainly making his job more difficult than he'd like it to be.

Lorenz grimaces as he walks out a side gate, followed closely by a woman from the palace staff who firmly shuts it behind him.

Well, now what?

Perhaps he should give Holst a call, work out how to begin this story with what he's got.

The official announcement is so close now and he's meant to be in the audience there as well.

As is Seiros Day.

Eugh.

Simply moving from where he's standing is probably a good start though, with the way the temperature's dropped since he went inside the palace.

He pulls his coat a little tighter around himself, his hands in his pockets, and sets off at a brisk pace. If he hurries, he can probably make it back to his hotel room before the streets fill up any more and get a head start on everything he needs to do.

Now if he could only...

"Lorenz?"

_Would everyone stop sneaking up on him--_

Heart in his throat, Lorenz whirls around, seeking the source of that voice. Whoever this is had better not be--

Oh.

"Oh. Claude," he says, then immediately falls silent.

Because it is, indeed, Claude, coming off another one of the footpaths that immediately surrounds the palace. One that... The way it curves into the one he's on... Yes, if the both of them had been paying slightly less attention, he finds, he might have ended up quite literally running into Claude.

 _Darling,_ he can't help but remember and immediately wishes he hadn't.

"I didn't think I'd be seeing you again already!" Claude calls after him, as cheerful as ever.

Lorenz can only be grateful he doesn't quite close the distance between them yet. Instead, he stands there on the footpath, hands in the pockets of his coat, a bright yellow scarf wound around his throat that was most definitely not there this morning.

"Neither did I. You..." A terrible idea strikes him. "You weren't waiting for me, were you?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"Hm." No. He wouldn't. But it's a pleasant enough thought, isn't it? "Hard to say."

Claude doesn't smile. "Nah. It was a coincidence, sorry." Slowly, he does begin to move now, heading straight toward Lorenz. "But I can make sure to be around here next time!"

"Next time." Lorenz shakes his head and finally finds the will to separate his feet from the ground. Claude turns to fall into step with him. "How kind of you."

"Aw, you know it. That's me through and through." He looks up at Lorenz. "I promise I'm not stalking you either. How'd it go?"

"It was..." Lorenz searches for the words, distracted for just a moment too long by the way Claude's arm brushes against his. "...Illuminating, I suppose."

"Ooh, that sounds bad."

Lorenz sighs, though he still feels a smile tug at his lips. "Claude, please. It was fine. Just... fine, truly."

"Uh huh, uh huh, I believe you."

"Really! In fact, I'm off to start working on my story _right now._ I've learned ever so much and you'll get to read all about it!"

Lorenz hardly even notices when they reenter the city proper and Claude expertly weaves past a group of tourists entering the palace gardens. No. No, this is much more important!

"Oh?" Claude asks Lorenz, and suddenly he's holding his arm to drag him across the square in front of the palace. Lorenz lets him. "In that case, you think you can give your buddy Claude a sneak peek?"

"What? Of course not! It wouldn't be appropriate!"

Claude laughs. "Aw, Lorenz! Not even for a really good friend?"

"No! I mean it!"

He doesn't notice when they reach the edge of the square.

Claude lets go of his arm and, still distracted, Lorenz stumbles. He yelps, scrambling to right himself. But Claude surges forward to grab him again, both arms this time, and drags him close.

Suddenly, all Lorenz can see is Claude's hair, all he can smell is... Is that Claude's shampoo?

"Aw crap," Claude's saying, words running into each other, though it doesn't quite penetrate Lorenz's skull just yet. "I seriously didn't mean to do that."

"It's quite all right," he says, voice tight. "No harm done."

He has the vague notion that, once, Lorenz would have been quite cross at this development.

He thinks even the Lorenz of today should have been quite cross, for that matter. But it's difficult to muster up the emotion right now.

Maybe he should have stayed in Derdriu and dealt with Seiros Day, after all.

Hell, maybe he should have gone back home and thrown himself on the mercy of his parents. Surely, surely, it would have been less humiliating than whatever this is.

He doesn't know where to put his hands.

"I-in any case!" he blurts out. "Of course you'll be reading the story right along with everyone else."

Claude shakes his head goodnaturedly and pulls away, though he doesn't let go of Lorenz until he stands more firmly. "Fine, fine. Then I, for one, can't wait to see what my good buddy Lorenz Hellman Gloucester comes up with."

"Good... buddy. Right." He laughs weakly.

Are they?

Oh dear.

Discreetly as he can, he takes a moment to compose himself, making a show of looking around the square, though his eyes aren't quite focusing on anything at the moment.

"Oh," Claude breathes, interrupting his thoughts, a smile in his voice. 

Lorenz straightens up and looks down at him, responding to the smile despite himself. "What?"

"Look. It's started snowing."

Lorenz looks up and feels his smile widen at the sight.

He's right. It is.

When was the last time he stopped to watch the snow fall? It's hard to remember.

"Oh... It's beautiful."

"Yeah. Seriously." He reaches out to grab Lorenz's hand arm again, gentler this time, closer to his wrist. "Hey, before you go back to that fancy hotel room of yours to work... Wanna go on a walk with me? There's plenty of places we could check out around here."

For once, the words come easily. "Yes. I do. I'd love to, in fact."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, what's up!! i am, once again, so much later than i wanted to be. it's not even the holidays anymore oh my god lmfao
> 
> oops. but thank you for reading!! <3 and please don't judge me too harshly if the final chapter ends up getting split into two


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, can we pretend this was never meant to be a holiday fic and just call it a silly romance lmfao
> 
> I could make a million excuses as to why this took so long, but uh. I'm sorry!! Work kept me really busy!! It's also why I'm posting this now instead of waiting till I have the whole thing and splitting it once I thought it got too long lol. But look, look, listen! I have 3.5k words of the very last part written!!
> 
> I am also, for the record, modifying things a bit going forward with the revelations we got in Cindered Shadows and the Nintendo Dream interview. What's written is written so I can't go back and edit everything lmfao but I did go back and change Claude's mom's name. And added one tag to this, since I try to be up front about every background pairing haha
> 
> But in any case, cutting myself off before I talk too much. I hope you're all staying healthy and safe and thanks a million for reading! ♥

Real life intrudes once again before the day is up.

"Sooo," Hilda says that evening, suddenly behind him when she most certainly had not been a moment ago. "How'd it go, where'd you go, was he nice to you? Don't leave anything out."

He's used to Hilda sneaking up on him like this by now.

Which is why he still jumps in surprise.

Ugh.

He blows out air through his nose. "Hilda..."

"Hilda! That's my name!" she says, slipping onto the couch in the lobby beside him. Her leg pressing against his, she scoots closer, trying to look at his phone in his hand. "You talking to Claude?"

"Your brother."

She wrinkles her nose. "Oh. Anyway. How'd it go?"

Lorenz sighs. "Please, Hilda. You can ask him yourself. You two are friends, too, yes? Aren't you more interested in how my meeting for work went?"

"Uh, no?" Hilda huffs, slumping against him. "Come ooon! Tell me!"

Lorenz sighs again. "Quite well, I suppose. We... talked, then we... took a walk."

"Uh huh?" She makes an impatient gesture, her entire side pressed up to his now like she's trying to push him right off the couch.

It wouldn't be the first time either.

"Uh huh what? That's it. We had breakfast. We talked, like any other new acquaintances would do when agreeing to meet again."

"Right! Right. Goddess, you're so damned annoying sometimes." Mercifully, letting out a frustrated sound, she pulls away from him and slumps back against the cushions. "So did you talk about work?

"Somewhat? Not much." Really, they talked about Hilda more than they talked about work.

Which is a very odd thought, actually.

"Right, right. So did he get sick of you by the end of it?"

"What? No!"

"Wow! Maybe Claude really is a saint," she says, though the grin she says it with just makes him roll his eyes in response. "Anyway, whatever. If you've got nothing juicy to share, then enough about your dumb date."

"It wasn't a date!"

"Uh huh. _Anyway._ You busy tomorrow?"

He hesitates.

"It's Seiros Day tomorrow, you know."

Suspicious. She's been avoiding him this whole time. This is suspicious.

"I am aware."

"Great. So? Are you?"

He shrugs. "Not the whole day, no." He'd been rather hoping to do nothing, actually, except work.

And avoid his calls.

Hilda grimaces. "Okay, good. Then I've got something for you to do tomorrow, instead of getting all _broody_ and crap. If you, like, want to, I guess. Not like I'm making you or anything." She crosses her arms.

He sighs. "Oh, Hilda, there's no need to look quite so excited about it."

"Aw, stop it. Of course I'm excited! But this is Claude's idea, all right? So the both of you should be thanking me for even telling you. _Anyway._ He's meeting up with Edelgard tomorrow and I'm going, too, obviously. And he thinks you should come by and hang with us, too. Because you're his new friend or whatever. Ask him, not me."

The opportunity to meet the prime minister of Adrestia?

Shamefully, that's the first thing his mind fixates on, before he quickly corrects course, because...

Because... seeing Claude again is a good incentive as well.

Goodness, a very good one.

Not to mention...

He presses his lips together if only to keep himself from frowning too obviously. Lorenz had been determined to spend Seiros Day on the job. Truly.

But maybe spending it with company will make it easier to avoid thinking too hard about... everything.

All of it.

Far too much of it all.

He clears his throat and, "Yes, of course. I'll go," he says before he can think better of it.

"Okay, great."

"I only... Ah." Wait. Wait, reel it in, he needs to ask... Something's odd here, right? "But he didn't ask me himself?"

She narrows her eyes at him. Then she smiles. "No, he didn't. Don't think about it too hard. Just be ready in time, okay?" She slaps at his shoulder and uses him as a handhold as she pushes herself up to her feet. "See you there, loverboy."

Lo...Lover....

"Excuse me?!"

"You heard me! Buh-bye!"

With one last little wave, she disappears, all before he can question her further, leaving him there at a loss for words.

Oh, he hates this.

-

Hilda's up to something. That much continues to be evident.

Lorenz just can't seem to figure out just what that something is, or what it might have to do with... anything she and Claude may have done so far. He doesn't know.

Why, he's not even convinced Claude really did extend this invitation this time, if only because of how Hilda dodged the question.

She doesn't answer any more of his texts that evening either and he doesn't know which floor she's on, much less which room.

Not that he's in a hurry to change that. It's probably for the best, all considered, seeing as she doesn't know where his room is either, which is something that has, historically, worked out quite nicely for him.

And he does still have a job to do, even if that won't be the only thing he does tomorrow anymore.

So he sets the question of the invitation aside for the moment and sets to work distracting himself. That night, Lorenz sits on his bed in his hotel room, a notepad open on his lap and a pencil held loosely in his hand, and asks himself: _What do I know?_

What does he know, indeed.

The king's formerly secret son is to be officially named the new crown prince, supplanting his cousin, the previous heir and a man whose name Lorenz doesn't even bother to write down.

He's to be only a footnote in the new crown prince's story, at least as far as the story _he's_ writing is concerned.

But the new prince's name has been a secret until only very recently, having been kept closely guarded from the very moment his existence was revealed in a way his cousin's name never was.

Crown prince _Khalid,_ the next king of Almyra.

Now, the king's name has never been a secret, but the rulers of Almyra have traditionally styled themselves as King Almyra or Queen Almyra, rather than King or Queen such-and-such. It's not strictly enforced, not in an age when a quick search online can bring up so much about any public figure, but the queen...

The first queen's name is easy to find, but the current one, the current princess-consort, to be precise, is more of a mystery.

Her relationship with the king, her very public existence in Almyra, in fact, was not revealed until after their private wedding, when she was presented as Queen Almyra.

Because _you already saw me get married once,_ the king said in an infamous public address. _Why do you need to see it again?_ And because _the queen is not fond of ceremony,_ so-called leaks from the palace claimed.

Those same "leaks" claimed that was the reason she, very deliberately, did not share her name. Certainly everyone saw her face and he has no doubt more than a few people recognized her, but it's not a matter of public record.

He taps his pencil against his bottom lip.

Hm.

Certainly an unconventional family, but he supposes being royalty affords them that privilege easily.

It has certainly afforded his family the privilege to be as awful as they wished all this time.

Although, even with as disgustingly rich as his family was, some of these things are still a little difficult to imagine anyone doing.

The perks of royalty, he supposes.

Lorenz sighs, slumping back against the pillows. Everything he's got so far is not much to go on, even with a press pass to the upcoming announcement, but he could probably manage a story with this, he decides. He could focus on the mystery and make it a pretty little puff piece that Holst would no doubt be disappointed to see.

He realizes, with a vague, sinking sense of dread, that he does not wish to disappoint Holst. Not at all.

No, he wishes to impress him. To _thank_ him.

Disgusting, what his life has come to.

Disgusting and yet... the truth. None of it feels feel quite enough, with how much freedom Holst has given him with this. With his job in general.

With everything since he packed up, left his childhood home, and never looked back.

No matter how much Lorenz may sometimes try to pretend otherwise.

There has to be something else he can do. Some other way to make this work...

Maybe Hilda's little get-together could be a blessing in disguise, if von Hresvelg is in the country for the announcement as well. Maybe...

She might know something. Surely, she must have met at least some members of the royal family before now, yes?

His skin crawls at the though of taking advantage of someone like that (he'll be proud about that later, maybe), but surely... Surely, it would be all right just to ask? If she says no, if she seems reluctant, it'd be easy enough to drop the subject and not bother her anymore.

Oh, he's got far too much thinking to do.

This is the worst.

-

He does not have Claude to guide him when he sets out of his hotel the next day, or any help at all for that matter, seeing as Hilda's made herself scarce again.

Lorenz sends her a message confirming where they're meeting and all he gets in return is a yawning emoji followed by one grinning cheekily at him.

Charming, really. He doesn't even truly want to know whether she just can't be bothered or whether she thinks this is helping, making him find his way on his own.

Regardless, the end result is that he's late.

Wonderful. Perfect. This could not be any worse.

The goddess mocks him yet again when it does, indeed, get worse.

He pushes open the door to the agreed upon coffee shop, and it's barely half a second before he nearly runs into a brunette crossing the entrance room. She gracefully dodges him, little more than a step backwards and to the side. It's far more gracefully than he manages to move, when he stumbles and his bag gets caught on the door handle.

He hears a vaguely concerned sound come from the woman, but it registers dimly in the back of his head as he stares down at is bag blankly.

It takes only another second, barely even a second after he's roughly yanked his bag's strap back, for him to lift his head and recognize her.

Oh dear.

Oh no.

"Prime Minister von Hresvelg," he manages to blurt out. "My sincere, deepest apologies."

Von Hresvelg raises her eyebrows. Because that is, indeed, the prime minister of Adrestia that he's gone and bumped right into, forever destroying any chance he ever had of leaving a good impression.

He realizes, just a moment too late, that he's further ruined it by immediately blurting out her title like this, judging by the pinched set to her mouth.

"It was an accident," she says smoothly and takes another step back, inclining her head slightly in acknowledgment. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

She turns to leave and, before Lorenz can think better of it, he follows after her at a brisk pace. "Ah... Is... Excuse me, is Hilda here yet?!"

Von Hresvelg stops dead, Lorenz just barely avoiding running into her again, and turns to face him again, her expression slightly less closed off now, more inquisitive. "You must be Lorenz, then. I'd like to offer you _my_ apologies."

"Yes." He nods, quite foolishly. "Yes, I am. There's no need to apologize."

She doesn't quite smile, but he thinks he sees her lips twitch now. "To answer your question, yes, Hilda's here. Come with me, she's been saying you'd be late."

He barely resists the urge to make a snide comment about that. Of course she'd say that, when she deliberately ignored his request for better directions.

"Claude isn't here yet either though," von Hresvelg says. "So I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"Yes, right, I..." He cuts himself off, wincing at the strained edge to his own voice.

No. No, enough. This isn't working out. This just won't do at all.

What he needs to do is channel some of the old Lorenz. Some of the confidence, some of the... dare he say it, the arrogance of the man he once was.

Surely, what he needs to do is direct it better. Use it for good, so to speak, instead of.

Instead of nothing that's worth thinking about.

He thinks he can do that.

Von Hresvelg might be... intimidating, yes, that's the word he's looking for. She's intimidating, even despite the fact that Lorenz is surprised to find he positively towers over her--there's just something about the aura she projects, the way she carries herself...

He holds back a sigh.

It's impressive. Truly. He only wishes he had the chance to properly admire such poise.

The point is. Von Hresvelg might be intimidating, but she's friends with Hilda and Claude. And _Lorenz_ is friends with Hilda and Claude. There's no need to work himself up into such a state.

Hopefully.

She leads them to an out of the way corner, where none other than Hilda, naturally, is draped over a sofa pressed up against the wall. "Finally!" she calls out when she sees them. "I was thinking you'd never get here, Lorenz!" She pauses and, flatly, asks, "Why isn't Claude with you?"

She must be doing this on purpose. He just knows it.

" _Claude_ wasn't the one who invited me," he settles for saying. "You were, Hilda."

Regardless of what she may or may not claim.

She scoffs, but does, amazingly, sit up properly on the sofa when von Hresvelg moves to take a seat beside her. "Okay, fine, fair. Are you going to sit or what? We even already got you two drinks, so the least you can do is take 'em already."

He follows her gaze to the love seat directly across the sofa--where, indeed, two dainty-looking teacups await him in a little side table--then looks right back at Hilda, who only makes a face at him.

Von Hresvelg makes no comment, seemingly distracted by her phone buzzing. And seemingly oblivious to the way Hilda moves to practically drapes herself over _her_ this time, her hair falling onto von Hresvelg's shoulder.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say it looks _deliberate_ , too.

But that's nonsense. Right?

He doesn't understand how in the world this particular friendship came to be, but he doubts a woman like von Hresvelg would allow that so easily. She must not have noticed yet.

"This is a very nice place," he says mildly. "Have you been frequenting this sort of establishment here, Hilda?"

Goddess knows she drags him to incredibly expensive places in Derdriu as well. And makes him pay, like she can't just bat her eyes and get her parents or brother to pay for anything for her.

"Eh. Sort of."

Lorenz does not sigh.

He picks up his teacup and turns to face von Hresvelg instead.

"I'm afraid I had some trouble with the directions. I hope you'll forgive me, Prime Mini--"

"Please. Edelgard," von Hresvelg cuts in, her phone tucked away into a pocket of her bag and a teacup having somehow materialized into her hands. "You're friends with Hilda and Claude, aren't you? Then, please, call me Edelgard."

"Ah. Yes. Yes, of course! Edelgard, then. It's a pleasure to meet you," he says and just about feels his confidence returning.

She smiles, very slightly. "You as well. It's quite lucky that you were visiting Almyra now. Hilda and Claude aren't often here at the same time."

Before very recently, he hadn't been aware Hilda visited Almyra at all, but he'll keep that one to himself this time.

"I'd say it's even luckier that you're here as the same time as the rest of them!" And himself. "Although I confess to being surprised to see someone like you here for Seiros Day. I'd have thought you'd be busy in Enbarr with the celebrations."

Hilda stifles a laugh behind her hand.

Lorenz ignores her and whatever she's going on about now.

"No, I'm not busy. It's not necessary that I be in the capital for it anymore, when Ferdinand von Aegir can take care of it for me now." Edelgard pauses, looking at him carefully over the rim of her cup. "And, in any case, I don't celebrate Seiros Day," she says, very slowly.

Lorenz blinks in surprise.

"Oh."

Well, that's just... That's just unseemly for someone in such a high office in Fódlan, isn't it?

He forces a smile, pushing back his first instinct to say just that. No. No, that's his father talking again. He's better than that now. "I understand. I was looking for somewhat of a respite from it myself this year. It's quite refreshing to be here in Almyra today instead."

"Understandable. Even if you do celebrate it, I imagine it can still feel quite suffocating if you're in any of the capitals. Or Garreg Mach, which I hear we all attended," she says, that slight smile widening just a tad.

Lorenz perks up. "Yes! It really is quite the happy coincidence, isn't it? I'm afraid Hilda never did introduce me to any of her friends from that time though, so I apologize for my ignorance until recently."

That's... fine, in any case.

He need only remind himself of what he was like at the time, how he acted around everyone he knew, to remember why it was for the best, no matter how much he wishes he'd gotten to meet someone like Edelgard von Hresvelg sooner.

And Claude.

"But we all know each other now!"

With _that,_ Claude announces his arrival, and very promptly stops right by where Lorenz is sitting, where he rests his elbow on Lorenz's shoulder. "Hey, Lorenz, so great to see you again!" In a lower voice, "What a surprise to see you here, in fact. Why didn't you say anything yesterday?"

"Blame Hilda," he mutters.

"Hm. I think I will," he agrees, looking at Hilda all the while. "But she's fine with that, right?"

Hilda grins, unabashed at being caught in her lie.

"Claude certainly seems happy to have met you," Edelgard observes, making no comment at all on Hilda's part in this, though she does aim a look at her that he can't quite figure out.

"Sure I am!" Claude says, dropping down to sit beside Lorenz.

The love seat is... somehow, suddenly, out of nowhere, narrower than Lorenz thought. Much, much narrower.

"Because we're friends now. Right, Lorenz?" Claude grabs hold of the remaining teacup, leaning over Lorenz to do so.

He's remarkably warm, in a room that really is quite chilly, the sleeve of his jacket brushing over Lorenz's torso.

"Of course," he says faintly once Claude pulls back. "Friends... Right. We're friends now. Certainly. Why wouldn't we be?"

Claude chuckles. "Anyway, so I see you've met Edelgard. And I didn't even get to properly introduce you two myself!" He mock glares at Hilda. "Was that your plan? To introduce him to someone yourself?"

"Just Edelgard," she says sweetly. "You were going to be here for all the rest."

"Don't let her tell you that. Hilda didn't introduce us at all," Edelgard says lightly, aiming somewhat of a wider smile at Claude. "We actually ran into each other just as he entered the shop."

"Yes, very fortuitous timing. I'm only sorry I was delayed, but as I'm sure we're all aware by now, this was somewhat last minute for me."

"You coming to to Almyra at all was kind of last minute though, wasn't it?" Claude nudges him with his elbow, smiling. "But you're enjoying yourself, right? Even with work and everything?"

He doesn't even have to think about it to return the smile. "Of course. Everything's been very lovely. Thank you." Much better than spending Seiros Day dodging Holst in Derdriu.

Edelgard looks up. "Last minute... Then I imagine you're here for the royal announcement, yes?"

Lorenz nods. "Indeed. My work wants me to write a story on it. And I take it you are here for it as well?"

"That's right. Hilda was somewhat of a last minute addition herself, but as soon as I found out about the announcement, I told Claude I had to be here." She lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "As far as I was concerned, any support I could give, I would give."

Claude jostles him slightly, then, in a way that seems accidental, but Lorenz barely pays it any mind, too busy thinking.

He frowns. Strange. "I suppose it is quite a... historic moment for the nation. Even ordinary citizens would surely want to..."

He trails off and snaps his mouth shut.

There's a moment where Lorenz fears he's made a misstep of some sort, when he finds himself acutely aware of the way everyone around him falls suddenly silent.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. What now?

Claude laughs just a touch too loudly, not quite friendly enough, and the silence is broken. "Yeah, you know, something like that! And I'm the friend who lives here," he says, bright as ever. "You know what that means."

No, actually. He does not.

Edelgard narrows her eyes. "Claude, may I speak to you?" she says, her voice gone low, and if he wasn't sure of it before, he's certain now. Something's gone wrong here.

"Uh. Yeah?"

"Alone." Edelgard sets down her teacup with a _thunk_ , already standing up and straightening her clothing.

"Uh oh," Hilda mutters.

"I am truly sorry if I said..."

"Huh? No! Nah, it's all right, Lorenz," Claude says, also standing up. He waves a hand casually. "I think we kind of just realized I forgot to tell Edelgard something, that's all. Seriously. We're going to work it out."

He feels, a little, like a child being fed sweet words before being sent off to his bedroom while his parents pretend not to argue.

Which is a very, _very_ disturbing thought to apply to Claude and Edelgard in entirely too many ways to count.

"What did she mean by supporting Claude?" he asks again, once Edelgard's led Claude away, the two of them already speaking in hushed tones. "Has something happened?" He frowns in thought, tapping a finger against his chin. Ah! Hold on. He did run into Claude near the palace recently, didn't he? "Hilda, does he work around the palace? Hm, or for the palace, perhaps. Yes, that would make sense... It must be quite busy there right now. I'd understand if..."

"Uh... Sure. Yeah." Hilda nods, her eyes wide. "Didn't he tell you? He's got some fancy shmancy job at the palace. He, uh... I have no idea what he does, actually. Probably something real boring."

Lorenz hesitates. He was ready to believe that. That tidbit is something he was already trying to slot into everything he knows about Claude, everything he's learned these past few days. It's convenient, after all. It makes sense. But...

He can't.

He knows Hilda.

And that is precisely the problem, he realizes from the very second she finishes her answer. He knows her too well.

It's not difficult to tell when Hilda is lying, really, if only because she never really _bothers_ to try making her lies sound genuine, except for when it's something genuinely important to her. And the thing is? This time is no exception.

It's too much effort to keep up this particular lie, he'd wager.

"Hilda. What are you trying to hide?" he asks slowly. Reluctantly.

She groans, loud and full of feeling.

It being too much effort to keep up this lie seems about right.

"I really hate you sometimes. I really hate Claude right now, too, actually," she grumbles, then straightens up in her seat. "Look, it's not my problem, all right? You guys should, like, figure this out on your own. Seriously."

"What?" Lorenz asks, utterly baffled.

"What do you mean what?" She gives him a dirty look, then throws her hands up. "I mean it!"

Lorenz huffs and, with as much dignity as he can muster, "I don't even know what you mean, much less what you think we should be figuring out on our own!"

Hilda rolls her eyes. "Yeah, of course you don't. Because Claude thinks he's soooo smart."

"You're not making any sense, Hilda."

"That's not even my fault! I..." She groans again, cutting herself off now. "Look, I've got a date with Edelgard later today, I'm not putting up with your drama, so you better--"

Lorenz chokes. "Please, do hold that thought. You and Edelgard von Hresvelg are... You're going on a--"

"Stop, stop!" Hilda interrupts him. She stands up and, faster than he's probably ever seen her move, she closes the distance between them and grabs his arm, forcefully pulling him to his feet.

"Hilda, if you keep pulling my arm, I will spill this right on you and--"

"Just bring your dumb tea with you and don't spill it on me! Let's go listen to whatever dumb thing they're talking about and you can deal with this, okay?"

 _"What?"_ He does not, admittedly, put much effort into trying to break out of her grip. "You can't mean we should eavesdrop on Claude and Edelgard."

"That's exactly what I mean, genius," she says. "You know what, you're going to find out anyway, you can deal with Claude going around in circles forever."

"I don't understand what you mean!" he finally cries out, frustrated.

He doesn't get an answer though.

They've barely taken a few steps when they spot Claude and Edelgard heading their way again, still in the middle of a whispered conversation.

"It's not as if I don't understand keeping secrets. You know that better than anyone," Edelgard is saying and oh goddess. Oh goddess and saints, this sounds serious. What sort of conversation are he and Hilda about to intrude on? "But you understand the circumstances, do you not? If you don't talk about it, someone else inevitably will. You know this. You know it will come out whether you want it or not. Did Hilda really encourage this?"

"Not exactly..."

But then Hilda shrugs, and unrepentant, answers loud enough for them to hear. "Yep," she says, popping the _p._ "Like I told Lorenz here, it's not like it's my problem. But they seriously need to deal with it. It's getting kinda old."

"I still do not know what _it_ is," he whispers harshly at Hilda.

Edelgard only looks surprised to see her and Lorenz for a moment, before she says, "I see. So this is..." She shakes her head. "Hilda, this is a very bad idea."

"You bet."

"Edelgard..." Claude says softly, not looking at Lorenz.

"Claude, please. I..." She frowns. "As I said. It's not as if I don't understand, but..." She glances at Lorenz. "I'm sorry. It's not really my decision either. And I'm sorry you heard that. I think I should..."

"No, you're right," Claude interrupts her. "Probably should have at least warned _you_ before today," he mutters. "If only to avoid this..."

Edelgard, if anything, frowns more deeply. "This was why I hoped this would be a private conversation..." she says, pointed.

Hilda pretends not to hear her, smiling serenely like none of this has anything to do with her.

Claude, however, pays no mind to that. He shrugs and, after one last whispered comment that Edelgard nods at, turns to face them properly.

Lorenz doesn't... Well, he doesn't know Claude very well, of course. For all he knows, he always acts this way around his friends. But there's just something entirely too casual about his every movement now, as he turns to Lorenz and holds his gaze steadily.

It feels off, in ways he can't explain.

"Lorenz," Claude says, as Edelgard gestures for Hilda to follow her goddess knows where. "Can we take a walk? You and me? We'll leave these two lovely ladies to their date and we can talk for a while, all right?"

Hilda makes a face at him over her shoulder, then immediately turns a still unrepentant smile on Edelgard.

He'll just have to take that as encouragement, then.

"I have no objections," he says.

He gets a slight smile in response from Claude. "Thank you, Lorenz. Come on."

When they exit, his tea left quietly at the return counter near the entrance and Claude's forgotten and untouched, he finds it's not the same as when Lorenz followed Claude down these streets the previous time, after the snow began to fall. Claude doesn't point out this or that landmark, he doesn't stop to take in a sight or two. It's not even like when he led Lorenz to breakfast, where he kept Lorenz so distracted he barely even realized how quickly they got there.

Instead, he's silent, the most silent Lorenz has ever seen him, in fact, and the look on his face is one he can't decipher.

Lorenz clears his throat, desperate to break the silence. What to say, what to say... "Should I be bracing myself for you to confess you're a serial killer, Claude?"

Claude doesn't laugh.

Oh dear.

"I." Lorenz sputters. "I do hope you mean that wasn't any kind of... I didn't truly _mean_ that!"

"Hm?" Claude looks up at him, expression questioning like he's only just realized Lorenz spoke at all. "What? Oh." He shakes his head. "No. I'm not leading you out somewhere to murder you, Lorenz. I swear," he says, and there's a hint of that usual humor again in the slight curl to his lips.

Lorenz can feel himself redden regardless. "But you realize i-it was a joke, of course! Only a joke!"

"Yeah, yeah, I do." Claude breathes out a sound that might be a laugh, but says little more after that as he continues to walk.

Lorenz sticks his hands in his pockets as he follows him, trying to sink deeper into his scarf. But Claude, oh Claude. Whatever this is truly must be driving him to distracting, because he hardly even seems to take notice of the chill in the air as he leads them to a little park, surprisingly empty in this city.

"So," Claude says, stopping by a bench he does not sit down on.

Lorenz follows his lead and stays standing as well. "So. I take it there is... something you do want to confess." He grimaces. "That isn't being a serial killer, of course."

"Ha. Yeah. There is. Something about me not being a serial killer." Claude falls silent for several seconds and _now_ he seems to notice the cold, judging by the way he pulls his coat tighter around himself. "So. Edelgard was telling the truth. There's something I should have told you. I mean." Claude closes his eyes. "Look, I know we barely know each other yet, so this probably sounds weird to begin with, me talking about having to tell you things. But you're friends with a good friend of mine and I keep spending time with you and... Aw crap, listen to me going on and on. Edelgard was right, regardless. That's my point. It was going to come up sooner or later."

"Right..." Lorenz frowns, taking in the pinched cast to Claude's expression, the way his mouth tightens at the corners.

This feels wrong.

"Claude, it is as you said. We haven't known each other for long, but regardless of what you may or may not think of my profession... I am not in the habit of forcing people to tell me things. And you do not owe me any explanations. If this is something you would rather not tell me, I would hardly hold it against you."

"No, uh." Claude shakes his head, brow furrowing in what he thinks might be annoyance. "I meant it. It's something you were going to find out anyway," he says. "And I think it's probably better if you hear it from me, is the thing. Instead of the people you'd be hearing it from instead."

It still doesn't feel right.

"Please," he insists. "There is no need for you to force yourself to tell me. I could very well find it out, ah... Whenever it is I would have learned it otherwise, from whoever would be telling me. If you would..." He swallows. Considerate. Being considerate is the key here. And perhaps later he'll take a moment to be glad to find he does mean what he's saying. "...If you would prefer it that way. It's not as if I'll be pausing my life and sadly sitting on my own trying to figure you out, you know. I've still got a story to write as well! I'd be... far too busy, even if I wanted to disrespect your wishes like that, to just--"

Claude sighs and holds a hand up. "Lorenz," he cuts him off, the look in his eye the most serious Lorenz has ever seen him. He takes a step back, then looks up to hold his gaze, and says, "It's me."

"Hm?" Him? What about him? "My apologies, I don't think I understand?"

Claude looks away, at the rest of the park beyond Lorenz's back. "It's _me,_ Lorenz. I'm the new crown prince. Me. The guy you're writing a story on? The no-longer-secret son of the king and queen of Almyra?" he adds, when Lorenz can only stare at him. "The reason you'd be too busy to look into my secrets? I'm the secrets."

What.

"I..." He tries to speak, but he finds he's speechless, every single word robbed from him by that declaration. "But... That doesn't make any sense..."

Claude is...

Claude is the prince? Has been all along?

"But the prince's name is Khalid?!" he blurts out.

Claude crosses his arms. "Well, I didn't exactly want people to know who I was when I went to Fódlan, you know? Names always have a way of getting out," he says, just a touch testy.

Oh.

He could just slap himself.

So many things click into place at once, quick enough he's left reeling.

It explains the way Hilda reacted, when she realized he and Claude had already met, doesn't it? Because he has no doubt this is what Hilda was referring to, perhaps she's even known as long as she's been friends with him. And of course Edelgard must know, that must have been what she was speaking about to Claude, what she hinted at, the reason the prime minister of a nearby country would be here and...

They just. They just let him keep thinking that...

Claude let him think...

Saints, he's been the one listening to Lorenz talk about this story this whole time?

"Hey, Lorenz..." Claude says tentatively.

Lorenz swallows. Right. Back to it.

"I suppose it does make sense, yes. There's... quite a lot that makes sense now."

Lorenz has been so blind. So self-centered. It's pathetic, is what it is.

"I mean..." Claude pauses, expression carefully neutral. "You do get why I couldn't just say anything about it, right? I couldn't just introduce myself to you all _I'm the prince of Almyra,_ or anything."

Yes. Yes, he does understand.

Still.

Lorenz nods tersely. He can't bring himself to look Claude in the eye. Just another way he's being pathetic right now. "I... I do, yes. I only... I..."

Just what is he supposed to say?

"Of course you'd be friends with prime ministers and spend time around the palace. Obvious, really," he mutters without thinking. "And I too blind to see it. Why, I'm sure it must have all seemed very funny to you..."

He remembers himself just a second too late.

Because Claude... Oh, he can practically see the way Claude begins to shutter himself off, the tight little smile that steals over his face. "Hey, sorry about that, Lorenz," he says lightly. "I guess I just wasn't thinking for a while there--"

"No!" Lorenz interrupts, feeling his face flush. "No... No, I apologize. I have no right to... I shouldn't have said that, much less implied you thought it was..."

He's supposed to be more understanding now.

Yet he still can't help the embarrassed flush that comes over him, the realization he's been so very, very foolish this whole time.

Or the thought that _he should have told him,_ why did he let him keep laboring under that delusion?

His breath catches in his chest.

Then a great sense of shame envelops him. Hadn't he just... Hadn't he just been trying to reassure Claude that, even if he never told him anything about his secret himself...

Perhaps Lorenz hasn't changed as much as he'd like to think.

He should just remove himself from Claude's presence. A quick apology and a hasty retreat maybe. That'd be the simplest way to spare Claude from having to deal with this, wouldn't it?

But... Would that really solve anything?

He looks down at Claude, silent now and expression the slightest bit uncertain, still waiting for Lorenz to finish what he was saying.

No, he mustn't run from this. Claude doesn't deserve this.

He has been foolish, so very foolish, but all the more so for the hurt at the fact Claude kept this from him.

What has he done, exactly, for Claude to feel like he could tell him this?

They barely know each other.

Claude must tire of waiting, for he sighs, long and slow, then says, "Nah, Lorenz. I get it if you're mad I wasn't honest. I did know what you were here for."

He thinks he'd prefer it if Claude looked mad, resigned, _anything,_ anything other than that little smile he puts on now that doesn't reach his eyes.

"You realize," he thinks to say. "That you had no reason to trust me with that information. None at all."

"Ha." Claude looks away. "Yeah, I guess so." He doesn't sound particularly sincere when he says it, but it's hard to tell with Claude. "So I take it that means you're not mad."

He nods firmly. "That would be exceedingly unfair of me, would it not?"

He thinks he means it. He _feels_ he means it. But still, the shame won't relinquish its grip on him, telling him he's only saying this to ingratiate himself with Claude, that he's only saying what's convenient.

Can he trust himself on this? It doesn't even sound like something he _wouldn't_ do.

Wouldn't have done at least once.

He opens his mouth to speak, but Claude beats him to the punch. "All right. Great. Then I'm glad we've got that whole thing squared out." They haven't. "But I've gotta go now, all right? So about your story..." He trails off deliberately.

Lorenz purses his lips. "You need not tell me anything. I meant it. Please, do focus on what you must do now without think about... Well..."

Claude nods. "All right, great. Then I'll probably see you at the announcement, right? Take care."

Then he's walking away.

That could have gone better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi my not so secret agenda is claude and edelgard friendship
> 
> i'm sorry i couldn't work dimitri in!!! next time....


End file.
